I know. This blog is a bit overdue. But along with the inevitable distractions of the holiday season was the challenge of how to write about a theme colossal as wisdom – true north and the capstone of the four directions.
Then, last month, on a family outing to the Himalayas, I came home to find my house robbed and ransacked.
The thieves had moved quickly, emptying files and sweeping everything onto the floor in a dash to unearth my valuables. Gone were my electronics, back-up hard drives and prized artifacts from a life-time of travel: a gold talisman from Lake Titicaca, a Khampa sword from Tibet, an antiquated cigarette lighter gifted by my deceased Patagonian gaucho friend Loco Rivera. But most painful was the loss of my faithful laptop containing not only my photos from decades of adventures and the presentations I use to make my living, but ten years of deeply personal journals. It was this loss I was truly going to suffer.
Ransackery!
But there is a good side to this tale. A lesson in human kindness and the wisdom of a twelve year old girl.
In Buenos Aires, Argentina, weeks later and a world away, I got a call on my cell phone. In hushed and tentative tones a man’s voice asked: Did you recently happen to lose a computer? When I said yes, he told me he had it and wanted to get it back to me. “After looking at the photographs and reading some of your writings it seemed like you're the kind of guy who doesn’t deserve to have someone rip you off like this.”
Sure enough, a few days later I was back in the States driving the hour or so from my home to meet Steve. His wife Laurie greeted me at the door, invited me in. Over a glass of Diet Coke, their story came out.
An acquaintance down the street had offered a good deal on a used laptop. After multiple assurances that it was not stolen, Steve and his wife Laurie agreed. However, upon opening it up they discovered a wealth of photos and stories. Laurie yold me. “Once I started reading I could not put it down. I could hardly wait till the following day to see what would happen to you next.” Scrolling through pages of very personal history they figured out that the laptop and all its contents were not something that anyone would let go of willingly.
Computer handed over, we parted with great warmth. I thanked them for making my holiday season both happy and memorable. For rekindling my faith in humanity. Steve and Laurie shared appreciation for the opportunity to enter my world via my writings and photographs. And the chance to do a good deed. Promising to meet again, to get our kids together, we parted.
So what is the moral of the story? I didn’t really know, so, I asked my daughter.
“These folks learned all about you,” offered Yeshe. “And once they learned about you they began to care. Once they cared, they really wanted to do the right thing.”
And they did.
Yeshe Salz
Isn’t it like that for all of us? Once we start to care, we always know the right thing to do. The first step toward wisdom is allowing ourselves to care.
In this time of economic challenge it’s important to recall what matters is not the stuff…. but how we choose to respond to each other in difficult situations. Ironically, it is times of loss offer the greatest gifts. They offer a clear glimpse of true north…what truly matters.
Sure I miss my stuff, especially my old ice axe, a worthless relic but priceless after so many years of shared adventure. But the absence of memorabilia also creates more space in my house. And my life. A loss of personal history liberates us from the past and offers freedom to move and create in new ways.
I just got off the phone with Steve. He, his wife and I are planning to get together for lunch, hopefully with our kids. They have a twelve year old daughter too. Seems like our family may have gained some new friends…
Another wonderful holiday gift is a new perspective on the beginnings of wisdom: As we learn, we begin to care. Once we care we almost always do the right thing.
Thanks Yeshe! |
